San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1887-09-13
CHATTER XVIII.

CHAPTER XVIII.
By the door of the Grange met Gwendo-
lines maid, Mathilde.
"MademOiSelle is out late" she said
cOldly.
How is Lady MARTINI asked her. "Will
she come down this evening"
mo, am sure she will not. Her head is
very bad. She will not stir out Of her room
tonight, not at ALL"
Invent indoors, and upstairs to GwendO-
lines room.
Come nr' she cried sharply. Come in,
Mathilde! What is it?'
She was standing in the middle of the
room, her eyes on the door.
1T is /, not Mathilde. Can do anything
for you, Gwendoline? May come and read
to you, or had you not better lie down and
have sleeping draught?"
mo, no, | want nothing but to be left
alone. Don't trouble about me-"
you must be well by tomorrow. Lord
Martin must not see you looking so ILL.,"
NO." she answered duly, "he shall not.
That is why must be left alone tonight"
So left her, and went down to the bright
drawing-rOOm.
1t was an hour later when, leaving Annis
and Hilda playing a duet, went upstairs
again, for no other reason than reStleSSneSs.
We were all a little restless with the expect
ancy of Lord Martins coming, the signal
for the breaking up Of the present party at
the Grange. lbethOLyht myself Of fetching
the chessmen from Mr.. GascOigne's old
room, and getting Annis to play with me
while Hilda sang. l wanted to conquer a
partain VI NNairl which
hung round the board since the long strange
games had played with GwendOline's I'M
Gle.
had no light, for knew well where the
pieces were; but, as | stood alone in the
dark room, with its great dimly-gleamng
windows, and touched by chance the cold
armOr between the tapestry curtains, a curl
GUS shudder crept over me, and began to
wish had lamp. This part Of the house
was so lonely, so remote from the modern
ised rooms in which my days were now
spent; and only the shadOwy lOzenge panes
and the GascOigne arms of the central case
ment guided me to that which had come
for, but now scarcely cared to find.
As | crossed the chamber, l heard sound
of footsteps, as If from the unOccupied and
seldOm-entered rooms beyond. My heart
beat a little fast. None of the servants were
likely to come to this dreary wing, at least
by night Could it be that burglar was
secreting himself for action later ia the
night?
Cautiously opened the farther door that
led into the narrow corridor and TO the back
stairs down which had often lighted Craw-
ford Garden. The passage, like that into
which the staircase descended, communicated
with other parts of the house, so that, if any
person had got in, he could easily find his
way here and secrete himself.
At the moment | softly opened the door a
dark figure came swiftly in front of me and
sped silently down the stairs. | stood para
lyzed an instant, scarcely knowing whether
supposed the apparitiOn to be ghost, or
burglar, or an inmate of the Grange. The
next followed the fitting form, which had
turned neither to right nor left, but went
out through the small side-entrance into the
park. had soft thin-sOled shoes on, and |
was not heard, for in that instant of irresO-
luton the figure had considerably distanced
me.
But, once out among the shrubs and low
bushes, under the stars, | ran across the
grass, while before me down the narrow
winding walk went the phantOm-like figure.
could see nothing but that it wasa woman
clad in black, wearing veil over her face;
but my pulses beat wildly with tremulOus
terrible fear as | drew nearer to her, and
my eyes were fascinated by the hurried yet
graceful gait.
In another instant was at her side, and
seized her arm and her dress.
''GwendOlinep
She turned round with violent start, and
stood mOtiOnless, her breath coming in short
quick gasps.
What do you want?' she painted, in a
whisper.
"Where are you going? Gwendoline, what
does this meanp'
She tried to pull her dress from me; but
held her arm with nervous tense grasp.
Take your hands off mer' she cried
what Is 1t to you where go? Why do you
follow me about? You will do no good. Lei
me goP'
81 will not" answered, until you come
back with me, or tell me why you are creep
ing like thief from your home"
II have no home" she said bitterly. &c
back to your house, Viola, and forget me
Don't think of me; go! Why do you inter
fere with me? have never interfered witt
youp
Dear, dearest Gwendoline," implored
clinging to her, 81 cannot leave you like this
Let me go with you If you must CO."
Your she cried, with sudden mocking
laugh. you do not know what you art
talking of, child. Go home and sleep with
your innocent conscience, and leave me
alone. am going with Crawford Garden
you shall not gor' said vehemently
not needing then that this was what had
hardly dared to fear. Hear me, Gwendo
line. You shall not stir step farther, or
will rouse the whole house with myscreamsP
"HOw dare you play the spyT' she sait
desperately. what right have you to tracl
and threaten me? Do you think will d.
your bidding because you are happy and
am wretched? Take your hands off and !e
me pass. l have made my path, and mus
go down it."
Have you no thought for your sisters
misery, none for your husband? Do yOU
care nothing for them. GwendOline? W."
TT0 ba GOnfinUedl